


Sunder

by Magi_Silverwolf



Series: Shades of the Past [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Chess Metaphors, Christian Imagery & Lore, Gen, Pureblood Culture, The greater good, references Arthurian Lore, references Pottermore Apocrypha, the meaning of names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 09:03:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11551944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magi_Silverwolf/pseuds/Magi_Silverwolf
Summary: The breaking of a family isn't always done in one blow. Occasionally, it's done in pieces.





	Sunder

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the original canon nor am I making any profit from writing this piece. All works are accredited to their original authors, performers, and producers while this piece is mine. No copyright infringement is intended. I acknowledge that all views and opinions expressed herein are merely my interpretations of the characters and situations found within the original canon and may not reflect the views and opinions of the original author(s), producer(s), and/or other people.  
> Warnings: This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers.  
> Author’s Note(s): This piece was written for the Houses Competition on the FFN Forums.  
> The Houses Competition Information:  
> House: Hufflepuff  
> Category: Themed  
> Prompts: A huge disappointment  
> Word Count: 1342

-= LP =-

_Sunder_

-= LP =-

“Few things are so deadly as a misguided sense of compassion.” – Charles Colson

-= LP =-

 

Percival loved his family, regardless of what others whispered about him, about his _Kendra_.  That was why he was willing to give up everything for his beloved. Besides, the obsession with blood purity was absurd. No one who met his wife would ever doubt her strength of will or honest nature. She was no less for her parentage and their children were no less for theirs. In the end, they were well worth being disowned by the family of his birth.

 

They had settled in the muggle village of Kendra’s youth in an effort to avoid the more volatile of their detractors. To avoid making yet more enemies, Percival followed Kendra to the weekly service at the local church. By mutual agreement, they both kept magic to a minimum while at home. Percival worked at the Ministry, drafting laws and seeing their implementation. Kendra kept house while working her crafts on the side. As their children came along, they were neatly tucked into this simple life as well.

 

The one magical tradition that Percival refused to abandon completely was the visit to the Naming Seer. Names held such power in magic. It was only right that his children be fitted with the best one for their undoubtedly great futures. The fairy-sighted witch had looked sad each time Percival placed a babe into her arms, but dutifully, she gave him a name each time. When she cried as she pronounced the youngest ‘Ariana’, Percival knew the girl would change the world. The Seer’s kiss was just as much a benediction as a name meaning _holy_.

 

He should have known it was never meant to be what he had thought. He should have known better than to ignore a seer’s sorrow. Just because a seer Saw a future, it didn’t meant it was guaranteed and occasionally, a seer would attempt to nudge whatever they Saw onto a better path. He should have known that a seer’s blessing always carried risks.

 

When Aberforth had stuttered out the names of the teens who were responsible for the broken form of the sister he cradled in his arms, Percival knew that his entire life had been leading to this moment, perhaps from the moment a seer had handed out his own name. For twelve years, he had listened to lectures on forgiveness and turning the other cheek. He should have followed that advice. His Kendra would have wanted him to do that. He was going to be such a disappointment to her, because he couldn’t let this act lay unavenged.

 

Becoming the Red Knight had always been his destiny, even if it sundered his bond with the family he loved more than anything else in the universe.

 

-= LP =-

 

For as long as he lived, Aberforth would never forget the look on his father’s face as he demanded the names of Ariana’s attackers. That look of bitterness and rage were stains upon his heart and no amount of washing would remove it. He knew as his father stormed away that it was the last time he was likely to see the man. He would have chased after him—to either stop him or join him—but he couldn’t, not with Ariana clinging to him so tightly. Mama’s look of confusion when she returned with her basket of potions to find her husband gone was unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

 

“He should have shown them compassion,” Albus said later, after hearing the verdict of the Wizengamot against their father. Aberforth stared at him as the echo of Ariana’s voice hoarse from screaming whispered pleas for safety in his ear. He clenched his hands in an attempt to make them forget the grinding slide of bone against its broken self. In the end, Aberforth shook his head at his brother.

 

“They don’t deserve even an ounce,” Aberforth announced, earning a deep sigh from Albus. Albus had been away at school when the attack had happened. He didn’t see Ariana until long after the visible wounds had been healed. Those images would be his burden. That did not mean that he could allow Albus this concession. “Do you hear me? Not even an ounce!”

 

“Everyone deserves compassion, Abbie,” Albus disagreed. “God did not sacrifice his Son for us to withhold the sacrament of forgiveness from our fellows. If Papa had shown those boys compassion, they could be working on their penance. Do you think Ari wants this anger festering like it is?”

 

“You do not get to speak of what Ari would want! She wants to be _safe_ —something that would never happen if those _monsters_ lived.”

 

“The only monster is our father, Aberforth,” Albus replied. “God’s forgiveness applies to all. It is a great disappointment to learn that our father would not respect the sanctity of life.”

 

God would forgive him for enjoying the crunch of Albus’ nose under his fist. He did make sure to wash the blood off before curling around Ariana in the bed they shared since the attack. Ariana was more deserving of compassion than the brutes their father killed, and Aberforth would do anything to fulfill the promise to protect her… even if that meant breaking his brother’s nose a thousand times.

 

-= LP =-

 

“I cannot believe you,” Aberforth said dully. His eyes traced the words which Albus had selected for the headstone that Ariana now shared with their mother. The pretty words would mean nothing to any who hadn’t heard the terms of love exchanged by Albus and Gellert, even unto their final moments together. But Aberforth had and therefore could not be lulled into complacency like those who had barely believed Ariana even existed. “You dare to make a lesson out of her death? When she was nothing but a shameful burden in life?”

 

“Abbie—“

 

“Don’t call me that! You have betrayed every bond of brotherhood that tied us together! For what you’ve done, I would cast you out from the family if I could!”

 

Aberforth clenched his hands as he turned to face his brother. His mother would not want them to be at each other’s throats like this, gentle as she had been and never bitter. Ariana wouldn’t appreciate the shouting, frightened as she had been by anything reminiscent of being unsafe. Perhaps it was a good thing that neither was here to be disappointed.

 

“I want you to understand something, _Albus_. No matter whose magic was used to cast the spell, this—“ Aberforth jabbed a finger at the dual tombstone with its words of warning. “This is your fault. You killed her, with your compassion for the undeserving. You want to make a lesson out of this mess? Let it be this, _dear brother_ : save compassion for those who have been harmed and not the ones who would do the harming.”

 

“Compassion is never undeserved, Aberforth. Penance can only be performed by the living.”

 

“Penance is only performed by those willing to change, Albus. Do not mistake for one moment that your love will ever be enough to drown out the guilt of all he is going to hoist upon the spear of his ambitions. You cannot be the White Knight in this tale.”

 

“If I cannot be a Knight, then I will be the King.”

 

“You cannot move people about as if they are chessmen!”

 

“I will do whatever it takes to serve the Greater Good.”

 

Maybe God would forgive him someday for only breaking Albus’ nose again. Aberforth only stopped with the single punch because he couldn’t bear the idea of disappointing Ariana even more than she would be with the final sundering of their little family. He already had a lifetime’s worth of disappointment to correct; he didn’t need any additional weight for that burden.

 

For years, Aberforth would hear the echoes of Ariana’s desperate pleas. It reminded him to not look back in regret and to hold fast to his reasoning whenever he wavered in his loathing.

 

Albus needed a seditionist for his _noble_ cause, after all.

 

 _For the Greater Good_.


End file.
